


Something Good

by Hipsterian



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Caretaker AU, Explicit Sexual Content, Jinwoo is stressed, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 20:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15692784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hipsterian/pseuds/Hipsterian
Summary: After Jinwoo's sister died, he has taken his nephews under his care but life with two baby twins is hard and he can't do it all alone.Kang Seungyoon offers him help. Help under the form of a caretaker with soft hands and even softer heart.- Taehoon as a slide pairing and Jinwoo's best friends who are only worried for his hyung who lives only for the kids.





	Something Good

“I can do this”

It’s Thursday and he can feel the freedom from the weekend already trembling on his skin; the extra hour of sleep and to be able to stay at home all morning – or even better, all day –, not having to fight to awake them and dress and feed and get them ready for school on time. He will be able to play games with the kids and cook properly – something more nutritious than instant ramen or the precook packets he got at the supermarket next to his office. – They can even have a trip to the park or the zoo, watch a movie in the theatre, have ice cream as a treat and see how they smile at him happily. He sighs at the picture on his head that blocks, for an instant, reality, and he smirks at it lovingly, not wanting for nothing but it; to feel loved by them, to hear the bubble of laugh that belongs only to them.

But it’s 5.30 am and they are crying, with the sun caressing his faces like a shadow of a day, and he doesn’t know what else to do to console them, to make the shouts and the screams go away.

Sometimes he feels like crying too. He has never thought it would be that difficult, that complicated to look after the twins, to take the place of his sister and his husband and raise Junhu and Taeha by himself.

It took all the family by surprise; the late-night call from the hospital, the sound of the night, the sirens of an ambulance that couldn’t arrive on time. He remembers the uncountable tears he had shed, the nightmares awakening him with a pounding heart that he wished belonged to her instead and sweat that turned the sky into a hell.

It was a commotion, losing his sister when she was so young and clever, so full of live and love; it was a tragedy that overtook them all, and Jinwoo felt like standing in the middle of the ocean, waves throwing him down, to the deepest of the sea where no light was meant to be, where dark resided, like walking on broken glass, bleeding in a pain that was more an agony. And then there were the kids.

He brought them with him back to Seoul; his parents were too busy working and his little sister was only a teenager too, unable to help due to her hard studies. He thought he could manage and, since then, nearly two years ago, he had. But from adorable and quite babies they have grown up to cheerful toddles that need his attention fully, that need him to play and to feed them and to help them to learn and to be good.

His eyes are red and he feels so exhausted, but he drops them to school just in time and he finds himself stuck in the traffic jam that is the road back to work. It’s such a luck for him that the school opens early in the morning and close at the same time he can escape from the office; it’s certainly a little far away from home and he has to drive for 20 extra minutes – and it’s also pretty expensive, but he doesn’t care about money, he works hard for them to be happy -, but it’s a great place and Yoon-saem is lovely, Junhu runs to his arms every morning with the brightest smile and just to witness that moment, it worth all his wons. Taeha is another story, though. She is not that easily convinced to get ready for school; she doesn’t have a favourite teacher to bribe her to be good – she is good, between the both she is the responsible and the nicest – but waking up is, definitively, not her thing; she cries and gets crossed, not wanting to face the day and Jinwoo has tried everything in his hands; to sing, to help her, all kind of empty promises that they both know that he can’t fulfil. But after a while they have set up a routine and getting to school on time is, most of the days, succeed. He prepares everything the night before, uniforms and lunches boxes, and he has his breakfast while flying spoons filled with porridge and cereal to their small, opened, waiting mouths. 

The radio blasts happily and he hums, content. He might be sleep deprived and his looks and attire might not be the best, but he feels content with his life, even when he still has an empty, missing part on his heart, the bit where his sister belonged; the piece that only her smile can put back in place, make it complete. Sometimes he yearns for her, for her soft voice singing him lullabies so the monsters under his bed would go away, for her warm hands to reach his again, because the last touch of her was cold and bathed in tears; he misses his sister, the way she had to handle her career and her life with her precious smile always in place, how much she loved him, how she cared for his little brother, how he wants to honour her by been as good to her children as possible and how he is failing because parenting is hard and he needs a break or he will fall apart. Today he is happy but, overall, he is just stressed, overwhelmed with responsibilities he took without further thinking, caring for a family he wasn’t looking for but that he did impose himself for the sake of his beloved sister’s memory; he doesn’t regret it but his brain isn’t working properly lately, too much work and too little time for all that have to be done.

It’s getting late and he shouldn’t relay too much in the school system, he should hurry up, finish the case he is working on and collect the kids before it’s too dark and they get scared, or, at least, before Seungyoon-saem calls him, admonishing him for making him stay after closing the gates. But this is getting harder and complicated and he can’t leave it, not when they are so near to close the file, to send someone to jail, and even if he is only an assistant, he has to stay. He tries to dial the school’s number, to ask them for a favour but no one answers and a sudden fear boasts his heart.

He has never driven so fast, ignoring street lights and any other signal, foot on the pedal, the speedometer is on the verge of the top but he can only think about Taeha and Junhu scared and alone, crying his name, waiting for him in the pitch dark that has covered a lovely morning.

He runs, not caring about how people are looking at him, pushing and shoving the crew blocking his way, he can only hear his kids tears, their encompassed heartbeats and he wants to hug them hard, keep them save inside his arms. The light tilts in front of his eyes and he blinks, blinded, relieved, the doors opening and he races toward the classroom, begging for them to be alright, for him not been too late.

Seungyoon smirks at him when he apologies to him profusely, kneeling down, sobbing softly, thankful for having him at his side, for this teacher that love kids more than he loves himself.

“It’s ok, but Jinwoo-ssi, I really think you need some help. I know you have managed to keep all going by yourself, but another pair of hands would be a relief for you. Junhu says you barely sleep lately and Taeha is worried because you are so skinny… I’m also concerned. Not because you are late some times, but because you look stressed, exhausted” and he is so, so right, he can’t deny it. “Here” he says, handing him a paper with a number and a name “He is my hyung, he is still in collage. He is reliable; he helps us with art classes with 5th and 6th classes, so he is used to deal with kids. He has all my trust” he explains, smiling softly at him.

“I appreciate it, but I’m fine. We are” he says, pushing the note back, but Seungyoon doesn’t bother.

“Promise me you will think about it” and the paper is crumbled in his hand.

With a last “thank you” and a bow, he leaves holding hands with the kids, they little fingers around his wrist feel gentle, like been tied up to somewhere good. Once at home he promise himself not to cry, but he hugs them twice and he has tears on the corner of his eyes and Taeha wipes them with her precious smile and he has never been so fond of them, at this moment, all the stress and the worries, the anxiety of been neglecting them a bit over his career, it’s all gone, only love beating through his bones.

But love doesn’t pay the bills and love doesn’t collect kids after school on time and love is wonderful, but it’s not enough and he needs time. Time to close the case he has been working on for the last month, time to spend with the kids laying on the floor counting imaginary stars falling from the blue ceiling of their room, time for him to breathe in and to be the person he was, the one with dreams and expectations and so much to offer, the one who knew how to smile and be happy, the one Seunghoon says he misses sometimes – all the times, you have become such a grumpy old man -, the one who went to the pub with Taehyun, supporting his music and his massive, undeniable, crush with his best friend. Now he sees Seunghoon at work and Taehyun when he has to ask and beg him to mind the kids while doing the shop last minute again. He is not complaining, though, because he chose it himself and his friends, wonderful people, have been very supportive, but it’s not the same.

It’s not when he nearly faints on the stairs that he thinks that, maybe, Seungyoon-saem was right, that he needs help, another pair of reliable hands to carry the weight of single parenting. He looks at every single babysitting website, but none of them seems to be correct, he can’t trust them and he has no time to meet them all. He asks Seunghoon about it and he reports him that his sisters don’t know anyone in Seoul, which is normal since they both live in Busan.

“You can always send them to your parents” suggests Taehyun, who is only visiting because Seunghoon is there too, minding the kids and the invalid Jinwoo who has been dragged to bed after collapsing in his desk, again, after been working nonstop for a full day – he thought he should use the school’s sleepover to do some progresses on it, but has failed again in an epic way the whole office will forever remind. – After that, Seunghoon has taken the lead and started bossing around and then, after a few hours Taehyun has joined the party too.

“No! They have enough already. Beside, my life would be such a misery without them…” he pouts cutely, trying to earn his heart and the right to get out of this prison of sheets and blankets. He doesn’t want to be a bother, he doesn’t want to be a trouble to the people he loves, never, so he tries to be strong for them but today his body can’t.

“Ok Superman, now, you sleep. Seunghoon and I will take care of everything” he jokes, pushing him back to cushions that feel strange under his head.

“When are you going to confess?” he wonders, just so he will stay; the dark and the loneliness are scary and he has forgotten how to face them, too busy with life to lay alone in silence.

“I don’t know what are you talking about, Jinwoo hyung,” he says, all angry and pretence; it’s not as if he didn’t tell him about how gorgeous he thinks Seunghoon is, with impossible legs and a neck he wants to kiss.

“Taehyun-ah don’t be delusional, I know you are head over toe in love with him. And he fancies you! He says that you are very handsome and interesting. Give it a try” he suggests in a small voice, not wanting for his best friend to notice that he is not sleeping but conspiring against his inexistent love life.

“You should worry more about you own life, hyung. I’m fine with my one side crush” he assures, changing the subject, but his cheeks are all flustered and he has never looked more adorable than now, with eyes that hold great expectations, shining like universes in expansion. “Hyung, do you realise that you haven’t had a date in the past two years? No, wait, it’s four, since that, Seungri, was it?” he continues, and he nods. It wasn’t Seungri but Park Sungjin, who moved from Busan just for him. Sometimes he still remembers the taste of his lips and the way he hugged him, as if he was the most important thing in his life; he made him feel like that, as if he was important. But even when they loved each other deeply, something went wrong and they eventually broke up, and now Park Sungjin is only a dearly memory he holds inside his heart, a name which a face that is fading away. It has been more than five years ago, but he hushes, not wanting to bring more drama to fill up Taehyun; he alone is more than enough. “Now, seriously hyung, sleep, or Seunghoon hyung will nag at me and –“

“And you are going to love it!” he jokes but, this time, he trusts his friend and closes his eyes.

“Everything will work out, hyung, and you don’t have to do it all alone” he whispers to the dark, and Jinwoo wants to discuss it, that he can deal with it all, but he is so tired and this bed is just so comfortable. He rests carefully wrapped under too many blankets and, for a moment, he feels all the care his friends have for him, how much they love him that they are eager to sacrifice their night for him.

He wakes up smiling with the sun hidden under the heavy curtains that someone has pull for him and his heart is at ease. It’s late and it’s Wednesday, but he hasn’t work today – his boss has forbidden his presence until been fully recovered – and he is full of expectations.

The kids have been brought to school and there is food, real, handmade food, on the fridge, with a lovely note from Seunghoon. He rings him while having breakfast and he tells him, all excited, that Taehyun has kissed him good night before leaving.

“Should I ask him on a date?” he asks, nervous and Jinwoo doesn’t remember when the last time someone asked him about love.

“Sure! Oh, thanks a lot for your help, I own you” he says before thinking about the consequences.

“Take the rest of the week off” he dismisses him, and silence greets him a second later. But he won’t, he will be back tomorrow, he has so much to do and he has no time to lose.

The waiting for the kids is eternal, so much idle hours ahead; ten minutes have passed and he already doesn’t know what else to do. What he used to do when he was free and irresponsible? He cannot longer remember; his life has become Taeha and Junhu and work, nothing else coming throw the bubble he has blown around them.

It’s then, while doing the laundry that he finds it again, all crumpled but still readable and he thinks it might be a signal; that Taehyun is right and he can’t handle all alone.

It will be good for the kids, he convinces himself; they won’t have to wait for long hours after school, they will have someone to play with and who would tell them stories before going to bed, maybe even sing. He checks again that everything is under control; that Taeha is playing with Legos and Junhu is brushing his favourite doll’s hair before calling.

His heart beats for three and he is totally unsure to let a stranger in, but Yoon-saem has told well about that person and he only wants the best for the twins. He counts to ten and makes the call in the end.

He is nervous while parking his car; it’s been a while and he doesn’t know if he will fit in the family, if he will reach the standards and requirements, but he smiles at the reflexion of the rear mirror and breaths in and out, calming his nervous hands, drying them on his jeans just to pull out his hair in distress, thinking in all the things that could go wrong. His heart beats out of control, louder than the steps that are bringing him closer to the address that Kim Jinwoo has facilitate to him the day before. He told him, over the phone, the basic requirements to be hired as a caretaker; collect the kids after school, give them diner and play with them in the meanwhile, so it’s not exactly complicated, also he has experience with kids; he teaches twice a month in Seungyoon’s school arts and crafts – it’s for the eldest children, but 4 year old aren’t that different from 8 years old, aren’t they? –, beside, the money is great for the little he has to do. He walks the remaining distance telling himself that he can do it, repeating it like a mantra, hopping that, like a prayer, it will become true.

The person behind the door is beautiful, just a glance and Minho is already missing his pencils, his hands shaking, wishing to drawn his face on the air. But when he smiles at him, letting him in, the beats of his chest become screams and, for a moment he is under a spell, paralyzed in the entrance, staring at him in disbelieve; in his life he has met a few models, but none with a smile able to take his breath away, to leave him speechless. Minho blinks, numb, breaking free from his daze, and follow him inside a house that is spacious and clean, as if taking good care of it, and he can feel the love that dwell there; the laughs and the fights and the tears spilled out.

“I’m Kim Jinwoo, pleased to meet you. Kang Seungyoon-saem has talked a lot about you. Do you want something to drink or eat? Please, take a seat” he says in a rush, and the house is so spotless and tidy that he is surprised. He sits down on the sofa and lets him explains him the routine. He handles him a paper with schedule carefully and detailed explained, and he goes throw all of them with him. For someone as young as him, Kim Jinwoo is very responsible and careful; minding all, taking his time for the benefit of his children and Minho admires him for it, for how much he seems to adore them. “Do you want tea?” he offers, moving to the kitchen, which is adjacent to the living room; an open concept house. Minho nods and Jinwoo smiles politely at him, coming back with a plate with biscuits and two mugs of steamy, boiling tea. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to do the grocery; these are the last bits I could save” he apologises, pointing at the tray he is carrying with him, but Minho shoves them in his mouth without giving at it a single care, enjoying it as if it was his last snack on earth.

After a while the kids come to greet him and Minho is amaze of how much they resemble. He has seen the pictures that are hanging on the walls – the pretty girl pregnant, the bubbling babies in a carrier, Jinwoo holding them, them together playing on a foreign beach, the sun up in the sky painting it with the hues of a summer light – but they are so much lovely in person, hands pressed together tightly and shy expressions. Taeha is the girl dressed in blue, slightly taller than her twin, who is a step behind her, wearing a dreamy beam, both listening to Jinwoo warily, all his words sinking into their little brains. He explains them that, from now on, Minho is going to look after them too, that some things will change and that he hopes they will be good to him. With a last good bye, Jinwoo puts them in bed and takes the chance to show Minho how to deal with them at night. Once the kids are sleeping – they have fall while Jinwoo was singing them with a voice made of stars – he walks him around the house. The kids’ room is the biggest, with two beds, but they sleep together in one, sharing pillows and dreams, and has the walls all furnished with different elements poorly drawn. in Minho’s professional opinion – but he doesn’t voice it, in case he would offended Jinwoo, who was probably the one who did it; amorphous mermaids and fishes with glasses in a blue wall that tries to look like the sea and the ocean. 

“Don’t worry about tiding, we will do it. Also, I’ll leave dinner ready, you can have it with them – we don’t have much, but anyway, what we have it’s yours too –. If you ever have any problem, Taehyun is at home at 7.30 and he is our neighbour; he knows the kids. Since you are here now, I’ll change my schedule so we will have more time at morning and I’ll be back later; it might be a little shock for them, but you can always bribe them with stories or food. They eat anything, really, just make sure its balanced, and that they don’t have too much sweets” he keeps saying, as if unsure of leaving his babies alone with him, but Minho understand his feelings; they are the only one he has and they have been together alone for a long time; it’s hard to let go, but by the way he talks, he wants to believe that he trust him enough to give him the job; an opportunity to prove his worth and maybe to let to know him better; this man made with a heart of gold and days with little hours. “I’ll see you then next Monday if you want to take it” he says, holding the door for him, waiting for his answer.

“Thank you!” and he has to halt himself, restraining him from hugging him. Jinwoo is waving good bye and smiling at him, capturing the last stroke of the sun on his eyes.

On his way back, Minho can’t stop thinking about him, his voice saying his name softly, his pretty hands on him as if touching the sky.

Monday comes too soon and he can’t wait to see him again. He arrives early to the school and stays with the kids for a while there, talking with Seungyoon – and Junhu is surprised to see that he is also Yoon’s friend – and then, he brings them to the park, with the breeze caressing their hair, melting them with the sunset and then, walking side by side, holding hands and singing songs with lyrics long forgotten and that are more a mess of words, they come back home. Dinner time is a mess; Minho remembers Jinwoo saying that they eat everything, but that must be false, since Taeha is refusing to shallow a spoonful of stew and Junhu is playing with his plate instead of finishing it, looking bored and uninterested. But when Jinwoo is back he beams to him, all giggling and the kids run to him, talking at the same time and the cacophony that greets Jinwoo is such that he can only laugh at it. He hugs them and ruffles their hair that smell like waves and seeds.

“We’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks a lot, Minho-ssi” he says, biding his farewell to him again, and Minho can’t help but to love the way his name sounds in his lips, and he relishes in the fact that tomorrow will come soon and he will see him, that smile that is made with love and joy and all the diamonds in the world.

He looks cool and unapproachable, but after a few months Jinwoo can say without a doubt that Song Minho is adorable. His board appearance has nothing to do with how he truly is; sincere and funny and lovable, and, sometimes he is like his third kid; but he doesn’t mind because he makes him laugh and he always find a way to flatter him – his cooking, his looks, his singing that time he thought he had left but was in the bathroom, and he was singing a lullaby to Junhu –, and he feels it endearing. He is a soft heart and he has seen him cry more times than he wants to remember – like while watching Little Mermaid, Minho was shedding tears from the start, or when Junhu felt and he nearly renounced because it was all his fault –. But he appreciates him, all the effort he puts into the kids, how he has learned magic just because Taeha wanted to see a trick, or how he draws them when they are sleeping and then he gifts them to him. Now his room is filled with Minho’s arts, paints of the twins, some scenery and a portrait of him that looks far more beautiful than he is. Minho sees the world in colours that are so bright and he tries to share it with him when he comes home earlier and they have dinner together – Minho won’t admit that he waits for him and that if he is not there, he doesn’t eat, or that is been a while since his heart has started belonging to him, that he stays longer with all kind of pretences and excuses, when the truth is that he wants to spend another second with him, making him smile once more, so he can dream about it. Now, coming home means seeing him, means not been so alone, kissing Taeha and Junhu and still having another human around to catch up. Sometimes Seunghoon comes over – but he sees him at work and he only wants to gossip about Minho, the boy who has bring back the Jinwoo he used to know and because Taehyun, as much as he is in love with him, has no knowledge of cooking and he is starving after visiting him.

“You look different” Seunghoon has said to him more than once, grinning at him gladly, proud of this change; for Jinwoo to leave all the stress behind, for him to enjoy life again. “This Minho is great. I’ll treat him one of these days!” he promises and Jinwoo blushes a little and his friend smirks as if knowing something that he should notice too but that escapes from his fingers like sand on the beach. He lets it slip away, not minding much about Seunghoon’s antics; he never means ill after all and he loves him enough to know that he doesn’t have to take him seriously most of the time.

Summer comes lazily, with a sun that never fades and, like ice, Minho melts whenever he can glance at Jinwoo, who gleams like a star, irradiating a pure light that is born from his kind heart, and Minho’s one belongs to him entirely. He chuckles at the mere thought of seeing him today as well, but then recalls that, later on this afternoon Jinwoo’s mother will collect the children and take them with her during summer break and he won’t have any chance to greet him again until next term and his heart bleeds, broken and shattered, beating dolefully against his ribs, deep inside of his chest.

He isn’t expected to stay and wait, but after Taeha and Junhu departure, with bubbling giggles at the prospect of a long journey, he has stayed home just to see him once more, to wish him a happy holidays. But an hour passes and then, another one, and Jinwoo isn’t coming and Minho has run out of excuses to be there that late at night. What if he isn’t coming back at all?

Minho shakes under the darkness that falls over him, sitting on the couch, thinking about him, about all the ways he has managed to make him fall, to make him love him, drawn to him like the moon is drawn to the Earth, irrevocably and irremediably; his heart beats his name like a song and he can only see him, a smile that means the world to him. Jinwoo, who is nice and caring, who always showers him with his interest on him, of how is he doing, if he is happy, if he will go out or if he has plans for tonight. Jinwoo, who cooks expressly for him, who always gives his best and who always smiles even when he comes home late and tire. He has fallen for him slowly and all of a sudden, with the change of the seasons his affection growing deeper, taking forms, taking his heart and breath away, blooming like spring, opening petals of an endless love, an eternal fascination with him, with his alluring smile. It’s his all, his kindness, how sweet and adorable he is, how naïve and innocent sometimes he seems to be; it’s the way he walks in this world just like everybody but he is an angel, wings made of pure golden feathers and Minho is sure that, one day, he will find them all, the prove of his true nature, because someone as good as him can only be seen from above.

It’s hard to resist him, the urge to kiss him in the mouth, to taste his dreams, to learn the curve of his lips, to touch his eyes and see what is beneath them, to hold him in his arms and sleep together, his hands tangled around his fingers, sharing the same air, the same space, tell him how foolish in love he has turned him, how he loathes been by his side and not been able to reach what he wants, the desires that burns his skin alone at night, how he appears when he can’t sleep, lulling him with his shooting smile and his smoothing voice, how his fingers know the contours of his face, how they can draw him by heart. But he has hold it, and thinking about him, he falls sleep in a couch that smells like Jinwoo, that has embrace him many times before and now greets him to his fluffy arms.

The night brings the smell of alcohol and paints him in black, like a stuttering shadow coming in and Minho closes his eyes and pretends to be sleep. The moon shines on his back and he gleams under it, all bright and precious and he stares at him in surprise, kneeling in front of where he lies and stays there, sitting on the floor for a whole minute that falls over Minho like eternity. He then grazes his hair, brushing it out of his face and his eyes are solely focused on his lips and its electric, a force that draws Jinwoo to him.

He tastes soju in his tongue and feels stars on his hands, a heart that beats out of tune, a mouth that blooms and opens, exposing its inside and he can’t believe that this is real, that he is not dreaming it again. His fingers grab his neck and pulls him closer, rolling over his body, pinning on top of him, capturing his lips on repeat, letting go all his desires, drowning into Jinwoo, into his hands that are touching his body and, when they break apart, he breathes on him hot, all flustered under the dimness that comes from somewhere. Like a neon signs, he gleams in red, biting his lips lustful, looking at him with so much intensity, hungrily; mimicking Minho’s feelings, a reflex of what he wants, of what he is longing for, craving for him as if his life depended on it, on his lips and on his skin lies his salvation; redemption written in a sinful language that speaks throw incontrollable moans and growls that resemble their names.

“Bed” he grumbles, drinking the air of his lungs, kissing him hard, desperately covering all the centimetres that keep them apart. Minho wants to complain but seeing Jinwoo so aroused, biting and nipping his skin in between passionate kisses is a view from heaven and so he grabs him from his neck, hands and nails playing over his flesh, leaving red marks and messing with the flocks of his hair. The door breaks opened when Jinwoo’s back collapses over it and then, nearly at the same time, Minho pines him on his own bed, crashing against the mattress, his eyes on his body, his hands discovering it all. Jinwoo’s eyes glisten, bubbling with alcohol and lecherous thought when he reveals Minho’s torso, eating it with orbs that stare intently, swallowing hard at the marvels that it is; toned and fit, with a skin of chocolate that he licks and it send all types of profanities down to Minho’s spine, making him shake and shiver in desire. It’s so hot that he cannot longer think, but he doesn’t need to do it when Jinwoo is wrapped around him, hands pressing his shoulders, lowering him to have a better access to his lips, to assault his mouth with a pink shaded tongue that is also running over his exposed flesh, tracing the contour of the black ink that makes draws on his body, letters with a meaning that beats on his heart and that Jinwoo contemplate as if fascinated.

“Hyung?” he wonders because Jinwoo is so concentrated on his abdomen instead of ravishing it, going down until his inner thigh, kissing his crotch and maybe undoing his codpiece, freeing what is caught between the fabrics, releasing it into his warm mouth.

“Minho” he whispers, hot breath steaming him “Minho – That’s not right”

“It is. I want you – I’ve wanted this since I first met you, Jinwoo –“ he pants, too excited to think clearly, too needy and too longing for his lips to be back to their rightful place, the spot where he can taste them again.

“Is it not?” he asks, slurring the words the same way he has blurred his night with kisses and unexpected kisses he wants to feel again, lips crashing against his lips. He longs to tell him the truth that has been living in his eyes and chest, that he is totally infatuated, that he wants this, whatever it means, whatever that Jinwoo is willing to offer - he wants him all.

“Jinwoo, I want this, I want it so bad – And so you do” he says, lewd and hoarse, sneaking his hand down his body, caressing his sides until reaching his legs and then palming over his jeans, that place that feels warm and hard under it, slightly twining under his graze. “You want it as much as I do” and, to corroborate it, he leads Jinwoo’s hand to the same spot, the little friction making it worse, electric coils travelling through his veins, directly to his sense, taking all control.

“Do you?” and his eyes bloom under the moon, impossible, holding all his expectations and all the stars in the world. Minho’s heart loses his beats seeing this beautiful person so surprised to be wanted, to be loved. With his hand cradling his cheek and his lips so close that he can glimpse his words, he kisses him slowly, devotionally.

“I do. I do it very much. I want everything you are willing to give me, every crumb of attention because I’m so desperate in love with you, irremediable, since the first day, since the start. How wouldn't I when you are so wonderful?” and he smiles lovingly, melting all the lust, replacing it with an affection that can’t be contained, so he smooches his eyes, caressing his skin as if sacred.

“Do you love me?” he asks soothingly, and his voice sounds like angels singing, full of something he can’t explain but that makes his heart tremble and he falls more for him, with every particle of his being.

“Yes, I do. I love you, Kim Jinwoo, so much, with all I have, I love you. Do you – feel the same?” he wonders then while staring at the stars that shine inside his pupil that look at him unreadable, hiding emotions and Minho wants to know them all.

“I – I don’t know. I’m drunk… I think we’ll better have this conversation later” and Minho’s heart explodes in tiny bits that cut his skin, but he nods, Jinwoo still captured between his arms, his body pressing him against the mattress, their legs brushing. 

Like this he feels impossible, beautiful in ways that are new. Jinwoo is under him and he gleams like the sun, his hands around his neck, his fingers on his hair, and he pushes him back, cutting the distance between their lips again, drinking the air and the words, lust brightening his eyes like night fireworks and Minho smirks beneath his lips, biting them gently, moans escaping his pretty mouth and he is proud to be the one creating them with his love.

He should stop him, but his hands are opening him, fingers buried inside him and, oh, it feels so good, so right, so perfect; Jinwoo is pushing in, one and two and even three, and he has never felt so filled, groaning for more, begging for him all, for thrusts that will bring him the sky. He should say him not when he feels it, hard and hot, against his skin, circling the rim, sending shivers, drowning with a delight that hurts at first but, slowly, it’s turning him into a mess of moans, of screams that reaches the moon. Jinwoo comes in tentatively, carefully, even when he is the one who has rushed it all, and it’s painfully slow; he wants him to be jabbing soon, fast and deep, forgetting to be a gentle soul. He digs his nails on his waist and pushes him, inserting his member on him, until the end, until it crashes against the skin.

“Move” he demands, lips searching for his, kissing the hotness that is the air that beats between their bodies “More, hurry, hurry!” He grumbles, Jinwoo’s dick filling him and it feels so great, his hips move with him in a crazy speed, panting breathless, back arched and Jinwoo nips his neck and his collarbones leaving marks that tomorrow won’t erase.

“Whoa” Minho sighs, the air in puffs of warm that reach Jinwoo’s hair “You are so good, so good” he reveries while he can still feel the ecstasy that Jinwoo has given to him, still high on him, drunk off his lips and his tongue tangled on his mouth, his voice yelling in pleasure, as if tearing the night. He smirks at him and tries to kiss him again, but this time Jinwoo pushes him, a rejection he can’t explain but, before he could argue, Jinwoo turns to face the wall and falls sleep, half naked and half a mess of sheets between his legs.

Minho is too excited to close his eyes, to even try it, so he watches him, his dreams on the air and he snuggles around him, pressing his lips against the curb of his neck and lets the smell of his own skin linger on his mouth.

Jinwoo opens his eyes to the sunlight that baths him, blinking in a headache, the room spinning; alcohol sinking on his throat from the few last shoots.

“Good morning love” a voice greets him and, in shock, he wakes just to find himself naked and Minho’s gaze focused on him, on all the skin showed, pale against the sun. He leans to him, catching his waist and pushing him down to bed, down to his body, kissing his lips.

“Minho, what?!” he exclaims, hustling him out of his frame, looking puzzled. “What the hell are you doing?” he curses, fully awake and startled.

“Hyung… don’t you remember last night?” he wonders, but he can read the answer right in his eyes. “I guess you don’t but –“

“But, what? Don’t tell me… Did I force you? Oh, God!” but before he can do something, anything, Minho jumps to him, holding him in his arms, staring at him with love written on his pupils.

“No, you didn’t. I wanted it. And so you did, too” he explains, waiting for the realization to hit him, for Jinwoo to remember, for Jinwoo to tell him what he hushed the previous night, those three words that will change Minho’s life. But Jinwoo pushes him again, breaking apart and Minho thinks that, maybe, last night was only a mistake, a drunken state of mind that he will have to forget.

“I don’t – shit, sorry. That was so wrong, I’m so sorry Minho” he says, collapsing on the bed, slightly shaking, ashamed, utterly torn for what he has done to someone so good and great like him.

“Jinwoo, I wanted it, you don’t know how much” Minho repeats, just to make it clear, to wash the sins that Jinwoo believe he had committed, the crime he didn’t write alone.

“Why would you want to do it?”

“Because I’m in love with you” simple and easy, just the truth and Jinwoo looks at him in disbelieve. Red cheeks and eyes that shine, he is precious all alone and Minho wants to catch him again, to crash his lips, to taste the sky.

“What? Are you – Is this a joke?” he cries, all stressed.

“No, it’s not. It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, but please, take my feelings seriously, because you are hurting me” he replies, damns grim and somber, his pleasant smile now a straight line cutting his face in though features.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything… I just don’t get it”

“What you don’t get it, hyung? I like you, I’ve felt for you. It’s not hard to understand” he pushes, bad mood sinking on his temper; this isn’t what he was expecting after confessing, after making love with him all night long.

“Why? That’s an error. It’s a mistake, Minho, and it’s my fault. I’m sorry” he rushes to explain “I was drunk and I took advantage of you. You are so nice and I’m sorry if I confused you, but you don’t love me and I don’t like you this way. You are great, really Minho, so please, let’s just forget it” he pleads.

“No, it’s not any mistake. I know what I feel for you, hyung. And I don’t hold any grudge toward you, all the contrary. So don’t feel bad about giving me the best night of my life,” he says, trying to reach for his hand, to hold them and feel how soft they are in the morning as well “ you did nothing wrong, but don’t try to tell me how do I feel.”

“Minho… I think – “but he is not letting him talk again, not when all astonished he looks so fine, not when regrets and sorries are coming out of his mouth instead of his name. Killing his words with his tongue, he pines him back and kisses him harsh, his hands all above his body, touching him in ways he did before. And when his breath is out of control and his hands are also holding him, he moves and let him free.

“Do you want more, hyung?” he teases him, smirking as if victory as if the world was on his palm and Jinwoo stares at him uncertainly.

“Minho, no, I don’t” but the way he breathes, fighting to catch the air, to fill his lungs with gasps Minho knows that he is lying, that he has ignited the fire and he is trying so hard to stop it.

With a sharp look at him, eager and hungrily, Minho touches his body, from his flustered cheeks that shine like ashes to his hips, that move under his trace and then, slowly, he rubs his inner thigh and finds what stands, hard and alone, in between.

“I don’t think so” he whispers all seductively, voice lewd and husk and Jinwoo shivers hearing it right inside his ear, how he can control his body like this with only a hungrily look and fingers that fly across his flesh like something great. 

“You kissed me! What did you expect? It has been so long – it’s normal!” he defenses himself, slapping the hand that has begun to stroke his member smoothly, slowly, distracted. 

“How long?” he wonders, just to hear his broken voice filled with scrums from yesterday.

“Five years and a half,” he says, counting on his skin the last time he has felt complete, the last time that Park Sungjin has been with him.

“That’s a long time” he agrees, kissing his neck, not giving up “you deserve it, a little bit of pleasure, to release stress” he suggests, his teeth nipping his ear, his words tickling his senses. “I can make you feel better, I can repay you for what you did to me yesterday” he murmurs and Jinwoo has to restrain himself from giving up, from letting him do whatever he wants to him, to let his hands explore him entirely, completely.

“Minho – Oh! – Stop it” he pleads when the pleasure is way too much for him to control.

“No, because this” and he bites his nipples, hard under his cold blow “is what you want. And I want you to be happy” he says, his mouth on his skin, his words soaking his bones. 

“That’s wrong” he yells, stopping his thrilling fondling, those fingers caressing his back and his stomach as if they belong to him, even if for a second he wanted for anything but for it.

“Why this is wrong?” he inquires, mad at how adamant Jinwoo is in his chances to halt him and tired of hearing him repeating it; loving him is not an error.

“Because you work for me, that’s taking advantage of your condition as my employee” he explains “and I don’t want that – as much as my body might, it’s not ethic and I’m completely sorry for what had happened yesterday and I will ask you for your discretion, to not reveal it to no one, please. But as much as I like you as a person, let’s keep this professional”

“Jinwoo, I can’t. Taking it professionally after kissing you? I want only to repeat it, again and again. I love you and I can’t control the way you make me feel” he says, honestly, exposing his deep thought, the truth that he holds in his heart.

“Then –“he shakes his head “the kids adore you, I’m not going to find anyone better than you” he complains. “Minho, summer break is here, we don’t have to see each other for a while. Calm your mind, forget your feelings and come back to us. Can you do that?” but now who refuses to it is Minho.

“No, I’m not going anyway. No, until you tell me the truth” he states, stubborn, sitting right in front of him, his tattoos on display and Jinwoo reads them all, his fingers nearly on his skin, touching them as if they were art.

“What do you want me to tell you,” he asks, but deep inside he knows what it is all about.

“You say we will talk about it when you were sober. Now you look pretty good to me, so tell me how you feel toward me” he demands, serious again, looking at him directly, his eyes reflexing the light that is in his own ones.

“I don’t feel anything but friendship,” he says, with a vain intent to be gentle, to not break him again.

“Bullshit! A friend wouldn’t do what you did to me yesterday”

“I was drunk! And I told you that I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you” he begs, and the sorrow and broken is him instead.

“If you don’t have feelings for me, why do you care if I stay with you or not?” he queries again, slightly sulphured, his heart thumbing like thunders and his eyes like storms.

“Because you make me laugh. You make me feel better, less alone and I like it, been with you, having you around. Coming home and find that you are there ease the pain inside my soul. I like having dinner with you, talking with you, learn more about you; what you do, what you like. But that means nothing”

“That means nothing to you? So you say that you like to be with me but you don’t want to give me a chance. Hyung, you like me, don’t you?” he asks and Jinwoo is crying softly, his hands hiding his eyes from him.

“But that’s a mistake. It doesn’t matter how much I like you, I can’t do that to the kids!” he sobs and Minho holds him, his head on his shoulder, his tears falling down his back, wetting his skin but brightening his smile.

“That’s ok, hyung” he assures him, caressing his hair, gently and calmly, whispering to him that everything will be fine.

“Taeha and Junhu won’t understand it. That will confuse them” he laments.

“They are alright with it! Do you know what Junhu told me? That he will marry Seungyoon” he giggles and Jinwoo looks at him beware “and Taeha is happy if you are happy too. And I make you happy, don’t I?” he continues, pouting at him like a kid just to make him smile again.

“Yes, you do” he confesses, and Minho steals a quick kiss out of his distracted lips.

“See? It’s all alright” he reassures him once more time.

When the summer is over and the kids are back home, they find out that Song Minho has move in to their shared flat, bringing with him something good, something they barely have experienced; their Jinwoo's happiness, a smile that is evergreen since Minho is right next to him, holding his hands and kissing his forehead, the sound of laughs and joy long forgotten and that he has given back to them, filling their life with more love and excitement.

"Thank you" he mutters, sitting on the sofa, Taeha sleeping over him and Junhu using Minho's lap as a pillow, curled under the blanket that covers them all.

"For what?" he wonders, abstracted, focused on the movie they were supposed to watch.

"For loving me" he whispers softly, carrying his baby girl to her room and Minho follows him, bringing Junhu, who has his head pressed to his chest as if his heart was a lullaby, swaying him to better dreams.

"It's my pleasure" replies Minho, capturing his lips, back in the livingroom, the lights on, his alluring face smiling only for him to see.

"You are so good to us" he compliments him, but it's also the truth.

"But I prefer been good to you" he smirks, cheekily, all shameless. "I can be even better to you later, in our bed. I can make you beg for more" he continues, seductive, tempting and Jinwoo smashes his shoulder playfully.

"Then I should repay you for your munificence" he joins him, kissing his lips fully.

"Yes, you totally should" he agrees, already wanting to have him all to himself, the couch a good place to start it and to end it.

"Alright, I'll let you chose the next movie," he says, winking cutely his eye at him, laughing heartily at his shocked expression.

"That's not it! I want you to fuck me" he exclaims, all frustrated, cursing at his devilish boyfriend, who grins at him knowingly.

"Then we can start with it now," he says, pining over him, capturing his mouth.

"You are really something good to me" he moans, delightfully "too good to me".

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for your time reading this!
> 
> Taeha and Junhu are Jinwoo's older sister twins and they are lovable.  
> This story (and all of mine) are posted as well on AsianFanfics.


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